Friday, April 16, 2021

Cherie by Paul Warnes

 An Autumn storm stripped you.

“Is tree dying?” my daughter asked.

You were both very young.

For seventeen years I have watched over youwatched your shadow in the streetlight

edge further abroad,

your branches stretch and brush

the walls of another home.

When you were small I cut the stake

that tethered you,

stripped away the creeping ivy

that strangled you,

tended the lacerations

that scarred you,

Raked the leaves that you shed like tears

when the cold came.

And in return, each Spring birthday,

I swam in cherry blossom scent.

I’ve watched you both grow and change

but now she’s gone- uprooted.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.